Blank

Blank

There is no poetry in me today
Nor last week,
Nor the week before

Poetry, mirror to my soul
Deserted by the muse
Empty and silent

The ruins of Ozymandius
The broken web
Dust covered volumes gathered on the shelves

Evidence of vision, unbounded dreams
Splintered, scattered, shards of the light of imagination
Glimmer, sputter, spark and die - dark

Perhaps tomorrow ...

Copyright 2005 E. Bond Francisco